Life is a bitch, and then one stabs you.

Dear I was pompous and my sister was crazy.

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Brief Lives (15/?)
Title: Brief Lives (15/?)
Author: monstrousreg
Word count:  3189
Warnings:  Mentions of torture, lots of blood, gore, Shaw (he's a warning all on his own). 
Pairing: Erik/Charles.
Summary: Erik thinks he's going to seduce, interrogate and murder some nondescript CIA intelligence agent, and winds up biting more than he can chew. Charles is not keen on being murdered, he doesn't favor interrogations, and he's certainly not willing to be seduced. That he's not cooperating is midly put.   
Notes:  Unbetaed, and stuff. Guys I know the abrupt cliffhangers are getting old real fucking fast, but LJ has these goddamn space limitations and I can't cover as much ground in a chapter as I would normally like. I promsie we'll get around the bend in the road in a couple more chapters and we'll be done!

He awakens and smells the scent and recognizes the feel of grass beneath the fabric of his shirt. A dream, then.

Not exactly, Francis’s voice says.

Erik opens his eyes. Charles is sitting at his side, legs folded close, playing with a strip of grass. Francis stands a few feet away, hands on his pockets, tall and imposing against the sun.

“This is unsettling,” Erik says honestly.

“Tell me about it,” Charles grumbles. “I’ve been trying to get rid of him for hours. He’s a persistent spook.”

You wound me, Charles. Francis says, smiling.

Erik sits up with some effort, muscles stiff and sore. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know. This place is yours.”

“We’re in my mind, then?”

“No—somewhere in between. A shared space. But the atmosphere is certainly yours.”

Looking around, Erik recognizes the swelling and gentle sloping of hills covered in emerald-green grass.

“Ireland, I think.”


Erik pauses, feeling the slight breeze in his face and enjoying the calm.

“Did I lose consciousness?” he asks.

Charles shakes his head, “I brought you under. You have a disturbingly high pain threshold, but you turned to the bond for shelter, so I instinctively dragged you down.”

“So I’m—what, in a coma, what is this?”

Charles shrugged, “Just unconscious. But you will be until I let you wake.”

“Why isn’t the pain waking me up?” Erik frowns.

Severed the links to your physical body for a little while, Francis answers coolly. Not for long, or we risk paralysis, but enough to give you a respite from the agony.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Erik turns to Charles, shocked.

“I couldn’t,” Charles replies, tossing his father a pointed look. “He could.”

“But he’s you,” Erik thinks if he were awake he’d be feeling the beginnings of a headache.

Charles pushes back his hair, “Turns out my father had taught me a lot of things that I lost when I repressed him. They’re coming back to me now, slowly. Like Shaw said, Francis wasn’t anything spectacular—but he was a genius, and he explored himself very thoroughly.”

I’m standing right here.

“No, you’re not,” Charles snaps, and turns back to Erik. “You think this is unsettling to you? My dead father’s haunting my brain.”

Despite everything, Erik laughs out loud at that. He rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes, tired.

“Charles, please tell me you have a strategy on how to defeat Frost that doesn’t heavily rely on luck.”

Charles smiles, “No concept of luck in one’s mind-space, love.”

Then his smile fades, “I’ve no doubt I can handle Frost. I helped train her. We have other concerns, Erik. I told you we could use each other’s gifts. I wouldn’t dare do that without a lot more training, but we lack the time to train now, and—“

“Hold it. You mentioned you made a mistake. What you thought you could do before won’t work—why? What’s happened?”

Charles dropped his head to his hand, “You happened. I thought I’d have more time to figure out another plan while getting used to your mind, but Shaw proved to be smarter than us in this, and I didn’t come up with another one.”

Charles is stalling. Evidently, Erik isn’t going to like where this is going. He braces himself, wary and suspicious.

Charles opens his mouth, attempts to search for words and huffs in irritation. The next time he opens his mouth Francis scoffs in his sake, and when Erik turns to him the projection says, with an even and flat tone:

“He’d counted in dragging Shaw down to his own mindscape, locking his consciousness there and then destroying everything.”

There’s a long moment of silence as Erik struggles to grasp the meaning of this. The moment it clicks, wind picks up on the hill and the sky turns from limpid blue to grey. Charles flinches back, but Erik is faster, gripping the collar of his shirt and dragging him close.

“You were going to kill yourself?” Erik is somewhat satisfied by the evenness of his tone.

Rain starts pelting down on them, icy and sharp like ice-blade razors.

“Kill us both,” Charles corrects calmly, though his eyes are very definitely avoiding Erik’s.

“You—“ Erik’s anger is like a ball of lava on his throat. With a sound of disgust, he shoves Charles away from himself and gets unsteadily to his feet, pacing away.

What else was there to do? Francis asks jadedly, as if this is a thought Charles’ mind has gone over many times, and while he seems to have decided it is the only choice it’s still deeply distasteful. Before you came along, we couldn’t touch anyone but our sister. The mere idea of physical intimacy with another person was stomach-turning. Evidently, even if we were to survive Shaw’s last showdown, we didn’t have a very functional future ahead of us. We are more monstrous than you will ever be, Erik. A monster ought to die with its maker.

“Nonsense,” Erik says harshly, rounding on Charles, who’s gotten to his feet and looks distinctly miserable in the rain. Dark hair is sticking like algae to his boyish face, but his eyes are as old as the world.“You’d let him win?

“Hardly win,” Charles says evenly. “He’d be dead, too. I know you want to disembowel me right now, and I’m sure we’ll have this conversation eventually, but there’s no time now, Erik,” he moves only a step forward and stop when Erik stiffens, face grim and mannerisms curt and forbidding.

“Fine,” he snaps. “Tell me what to do.”

You’ll get nowhere if you don’t calm your mind, Francis says. We understand your anger. But the past is the past. You have the present to concern yourself with, Erik.

Erik closes his eyes and takes several slow, deep breaths. Once he’s sure he’s composed and can handle both himself and Charles without murdering anyone, ne nods and opens his eyes.

“I know you don’t understand how the mirrored rooms work,” Charles starts. “They’re designed to protect those inside form the powers on the outside, but they can’t contain the powers held within. The room I am in was specially plated with telepathy-blocking metal, so that I couldn’t reach outside, and yours is in an isolated building well away from any metal.”

“How come we can communicate?” Erik asks at once.

“Neither Shaw nor Frost know of our bond or how it works. We’d have to test the reach eventually, but right now it’s working like a communication line, unimpeded and impossible to break.”

“Alright,” Erik rubs his right temple, beginning slowly to throb. “So you’re surrounded by metal, and I’m not encased in telepathy-impairing junk. I imagine you’re about to explain to me how to access your telepathy.”

“There’s little explanation to be given,” Charles says wryly. “We’re going to open the doorway, and hope to God we’re close enough to each other to instinctively know how to use both gifts.”

“No concept of luck in one’s mind-space, Charles,” Erik arches a brow.

“Then I hope we’re both fast learners, Erik.”

“How are we—“

A gust of furious wind makes Erik stumble on his feet, and just as he struggles to stay upright a lightning splits the sky literally open—a spider-web of fractures like a windshield hit by a rock. In the following thunder there is a strange cadence, like an attempt at persuasion.
Shaw’s growing bored, Francis says, blue eyes cold as ice. We best be on our way, then.

“But you haven’t taught me anything,” Erik stares at Charles, apprehensive.

“You’re me, Erik,” Charles says quickly. “My mind is yours. You know what to do already, I need not teach you anything.”

“You said it yourself, telepathy’s different than metallokinesis, I’m not prepared to—“

Charles was gone, and the world was falling apart around Erik and Francis. The taller man strode forward and took Erik by the elbow, turning him easily away from the cracks in the sky.

You need not fear Frost’s attack, Francis says as they walk briskly away. Charles will be shielding you from that. The easiest way to control telepathy is to think of it as a radio transmitter that you may or may not turn down, riddled with frequencies you may or may not tune into. Charles won’t open the doorway until he has eliminated Frost, so you have some time to brace yourself. If you could glean from Shaw the location of your room by then, all the better, but do not concern yourself with that. Charles will find you.

“Why did you stay with me?” Erik asks.

Francis winces, and the world comes to a sudden, screeching halt. Erik watches as the hills and broken sky dissolve around them like a droplet of colored ink in a gallon of water. Then everything re-forms, only the landscape is drastically different. They’re in a desert, surrounded on all sides by miles upon miles of gently swelling golden dunes. In front of them now stands a broken-down temple, beautiful even in its disrepair. As they stand in front of it pieces of the wall crumble and fall noiseless to the ground.

Erik feels the water in his hair and in his skin warm in the sun.

“What is this?” Erik takes a step closer, and as he does part of the uppermost dome breaks down and falls.

This is what you destroyed, Francis answers. This is where Charles put me, many years ago. As it falls to ruin I am freed.

Erik closes his eyes against the glare of the sunlight on the sand, watches as the west wing of the temple disintegrates to dust.

“What’ll happen when you’re completely free?”

Many things, Francis replies. The space shifts again, and they’re back in the hills in maybe-Ireland, although it’s stopped raining. The sky looks like a shattered window into darkness. Shards of sky-colored glass have stabbed the hills beneath the break.

“Wait. Why is he gone and you remain? I don’t understand.”

You’re not the only one being tortured, Erik. Charles’ conscious attention is required elsewhere. But I am always with you.

Francis takes a few steps back, raking long fingers through his ink-colored hair to get it away from his eyes. His face is so distinctly Charles’ features so familiar, but he’s sweet and gentle in way Charles has lost the ability to be.

Word of advice, Erik, Francis says, even as he begins to fade. Charles can shield you, but you cannot shield Charles. If he dies, you’ll be none the wiser. If you die, he’ll die along with you.

Erik takes breath to ask something, but in the next second he jolts awake strapped to a ceramic table in a mirrored room.

His vision swims. He has no idea how long he’s been unconscious—for that matter he has no idea how long it’s been since Shaw started in on him. He’s lost a lot of blood, that much he can tell, because the table’s smeared with read and there are splatters on the floor. His right arm is open to the bone—he can see the white gleam nestled in the raw flesh.

On the good side, Erik’s learned such control over his gift that most of Shaw’s favorite tools—scalpels, white-hot poking irons, spike-tipped cat-o’-nine-tails—are out of the question. Shaw’s been forced to adapt, and while certainly creative, Erik can somewhat tell he’s feeling constricted.
He tries to swallow and finds that, since he’s had nothing to drink in a while, he can’t muster the saliva. More’s the pity—he’d like to spit in Shaw’s face again.

Dimly he’s aware his left shoulder is dislocated. He’s unaware of how that came to be. He must have struggled enough to wrench it from its socket, but he fails to remember at what point that was. He guesses he could be grateful; the joint has swollen to such state that his whole arm is numb, so now he can’t feel his broken fingers.

He struggles to focus his gaze on Shaw, leaning down over him. He realizes the man is stroking back his hair with a gentle hand. The tips of his fingers are smeared red, and Erik can feel his own blood clinging to the skin of his forehead.

“Erik, you’ve gotten much less resilient,” Shaw smiles. “You used to never lose consciousness in our sessions.”

Erik stares at him, consciously stilling the turmoil in his head. He pushes through the disorientation until he can feel the fine agony of his open arm, the myriad other cuts and wounds scattered along his naked body.

“You’ll never get at it,” he rasps, letting his eyelids fall as if heavy, making himself deliberately look like he’s out of his mind when he’s sharply aware of everything instead.

“Get at what?” Shaw leans even closer, almost intimately so, voice dropping down to a murmur.

“Francis,” Erik whispers, thinking he might as well stick close to the truth. “Hidden in Charles. Something—secret. You’ll never get at it.”
Hook, line and sinker.

Shaw grins, pats Erik in the head one more time like a master rewarding a puppy, and straightens.

“We’ll see about that,” he muses.

A second later he turns on his heel and Erik watches as one of the mirrored panels slides noiselessly into the floor. Shaw steps through it and its slides back up, to fit snugly against the ceiling.

Erik drops his had back and breaths harshly for a moment as the agony overwhelms him. He feels a bubble of panic and horror growing inside his chest. He’s just given Shaw a very solid reason to have Frost rip through Charles’ mind.

What if she wins? He wonders, wincing when, in the swell of an quick breath, the wound in his chest stings.

She won’t, Francis answers quietly, and then says, one.

Erik closes his eyes. The only sound in the mirrored room is the drip of blood from the table to the ground, and Erik’s increasingly sharp breaths. His throat is sizing up.

Zwei, he thinks, and his heartbeat picks up, throbbing in his many wounds. His arm is an incandescent source of white-hot agony.

Drei, his father’s voice says in his mind. He remembers his mother saying, allest ist gut, and then her voice murmurs, vier.

Erik thinks of the coin, sitting still on the table in an underground bunker in Auschwitz, and the cry of a gunshot. Thinks of the coin, on top of the bedside table in his room in Xavier Hall next to his gun which he never carried around the house and the copy of Jane Eyre Ororo had insisted he read. He feels the thought break apart in a thousand shards and splinters, his mind fragmenting in chaotic noise, senseless and helpless and—

Fünf, he thinks in many voices, and when he opens his eyes his breathing begins to calm. He swallows drily, reaches down deep into himself and thinks, He’s on his way.

 Yes, Charles answers, voice firm and strong, and Erik can almost see the crumbling of a temple in a desert, and Francis’ dark smile. It starts now, Erik. I’ll be gone for a while, but don’t be alarmed. I’ll block our connection so Frost can’t find it.

What if she does?

She won’t, Charles replies, cool and confident. Before she has a chance to get at you, I’ll burn everything.

The viciousness with which he says the last part is extremely disturbing. Erik is left alone in his mind, with the faint echo of promised violence and the taste of ash and blood in his mouth. The pain is excruciating and he thinks he’d like to be unconscious, but the same fiery pain that makes him want to sleep keeps him awake.

He’s not sure how much time goes past, but it feels like hours on his tired, restless mind. Or at least that’s how it is until Shaw comes back; then it feels like seconds have gone by and Erik wishes he’d have more time to gather his wits, which goes to show that time is, indeed, subjective.

“Well,” Shaw says, grinning genially. “Now that that’s settled, we can move onto other things. For example, that business about you and Charles together. Really, son, if you wanted my attention, you could just have—“

Erik arches up and away from the table, electricity running through his nerves and setting them alight and Shaw’s mind is thinking—so lovely still magnificent he’s grown up to be such a wonder and, he’ll always be mine, and 240006, and smart Francis to hide something deep inside the boy’s mind, and Raven will break soon enough, and so much potential in that school of his, and—

There, Erik finds a way to push through the tide and part ways with the most irrelevant, petty little thoughts in Shaw’s mind and thinks, give me the map. A fraction of a second later, he has it. He gropes for the open connection to Charles’ mind and sends the knowledge sailing through, even as the image superimposes in his mind to Shaw, staggering back in disorientation. Erik has after all little finesse in mind-bending, and he’s making no effort to spare Shaw any sort of discomfort.

In his mind, muted by layers upon layers of shields and protections, he can hear Charles’ mind wail out like a siren’s call, a powerful psychic cry probably potent enough to reach out across the distance to anyone vaguely paying attention, and possibly those minding their own business. Miles and kilometers mean nothing to Charles’ gift.

Now Erik truly does depend completely on Charles. Judging by the way Shaw’s looking at him, it’s evident he’s figured out what just happened, and Erik is still wounded and weakened and strapped to a table without any chance of freeing himself. He’s restrained, vulnerable and at the mercy of a madman that thinks he has every right to do what he likes with his body and his life.

Not precisely, Francis says in his mind, voice layered faintly with Charles’ voice. You’ve got the weapon you need, Erik. You’ve got me.
Erik wields telepathy with the ability of a toddler swinging a broadsword, but wield it he does.

The result is somewhat less satisfying than he would hope for—Shaw falls noiselessly to the floor, deeply sleep, or maybe in a coma, or possible brain-dead, who knows at this point—and Erik feels the edges of his awareness begin to flake and darken.

Overextended myself, he feels vaguely, dizzy and lost.

Just hold on, Charles says firmly, mind commanding and comforting. I’m coming, Erik.

Erik wants to stay awake and help, but it feels like a pleasant hum is making its way into his head, filling it, making him drowsy. He can hear, distantly, Charles’ voice, and as Charles opens all channels in a distress call he can also hear someone else’s voice, frantic but familiar and comforting.

Perhaps rest is in order, Francis says, and Erik falls asleep.

Chapter 16

Oh, Charles, your original plan to get rid of Shaw broke my heart. How terrible that Shaw would ruin Charles emotionally to the point where he thought that option was the worthwhile, even knowing how much Raven and the children at the school AND Erik loved him. But, if Charles was too destroyed to have hope for himself, or to love his own self, then I can see him driven to that solution. Good think the plan is changing... THANKS FRANCIS!

You wrote in the summary: A couple more chapters and we'll be done. WHAT! You can't mean "done" done. Can you? *whimpers*

Yes, the plan has definetely changed, but you know--Charles felt cornered by his own limitations, like the impossibility of physical contact and the very real possibility of losing graso and hhurting someone without meaning to. Going down with the ship seemed like an elegant solution. Good thing rik fails to agree.

Eh, I don't think I should drag this fic on much longer. I don't want to risk it becoming boring.

Aaahhh this is like my oxygen. Awesome awesome.

I love that Charles is annoyed that he is haunting himself through the medium of his dad. And that Erik is reading Jane Eyre :P

What Shaw has done is brutal, I was actually flinching. No nice. I hope he's had his brain fried and wont wake until Charles gets there :-/

So so good, as always, you're amazing.

Haha you know, I actually only remembered Fassbender was in Jane Eure when you mentioned it. I love that book and I think it's a book Ororo would enjoy and would be perfectly capable of strong-arming Erik into reading. I wasn't thinking os Fassbender, I swear lol

Francis hautning Charles' brain, well--I would be annoyed, too! It's amusing to a certain extent, but it might get old for Charles.

Erm, Shaw. :/

I so used to reading this story that it's hard to imagine it;s actually slowly coming to an end.
But let's talk about this chapter, which is, I have to say, stunning! I love when fics go far beyond what we could see in the movie, giving things that are unexpected and brilliant. The whole "place between", this shared "mind space" is simply great. Especially the visualization of repressed memories of Francis. It's very, I don't know how to say it, picturesque. And Francis alone! That's really slightly unsettling, but also useful.
Charles's first plan completely broke my heart. I think that's a testimony how damaged he is: he's able to see himself as someone who actually deserve to die and so no hope for a normal life. Despite everything. It should be rather devastating for Erik- he put so much effort and yet Charles is still willing to die.
And then Erik using telepathy- I really liked the idea of using each other mutations and reading how it works was really interesting.
Great chapter- I think it may become my favourite one, because of the first part especially. As always I'm waiting for the update, even though it'll bring us closer to the end.
I actually haven't read Boden's Mate yet. I have the link to this story in my favourites, it's waiting in the queue for its turn. And I'm actually studying psychology and partially because of that my love to Inception was born. Human mind is something indescribable in its complexity and extraordinariness. Well, the whole person is amazing. But that's not the point and it seems I lost my point long ago. Anyway- I agree with your opinion about Michael Fassbender completely and hope that interviews really don't prove us wrong about him.

Thank you so much <3

You know, I'm going to miss this story and these characters, but I like a well-wrapped, concise story more than dragging on endlessly. Maybe eventually I could re-visit the characters, but this arc of their story is coming to an end, as it should.

I'm glad you like the mind-space. I was a little scared someone might find it rather corny, but telepathy seems such a fascinating thing to me, I decided to just go with it anyway. I'm sure there are plenty of corny things in this story that I haven;t actually considered, anyway, lol.

If you think about it, heart-breaking as it is, it makes a little bit of sense that Charles felt cornered into that decision. I mean, given the circumstances, you know? And yes--Erik was devastated and very, very angry. And they *will* revisit that subject.

I hope I don't disappoint you with the next chapter :/

Boden's Mate is amazing, so well-crafted and carefully thought-through. I wish I could come up with a story like that and could write that well! I only studied psychology cursorily and very superficially because I studied Advertising, but it's always been very interesting to me to try and figure out why people do what they do. There are so many things to a person, you know?

Point? What point?

I don't know--I haven't yet seen an interview of him that didn't make me grin like an idiot. The same with James McAvoy, though I've known about him and loved him longer than Fassbender, whom I first remember from Inglorious Basterds.

Awesome, awesome chapter. It's just like Charles to sacrifice himself like that. Even though I'm always impatiently waiting for the next chapter I am going to be very sad when this is over. ♥

Thank you <3 You know, I'm going to miss this story too, but it has to wrap up eventually and I'd rather do it while everything still makes sense (somewhat). I don't like dragging things out.

Eh, I suppose Charles will always be Charles, down at the core, no matter how I twist his character.

Oh Charles. Charles Charles Charles.

Can't wait to see their escape and reunion :)

I know =( But Charles' plans have been forcefully changed, so there's that comfort, I guess.

I'll update soon :)

This is everything I want it to be and more. Outsmarting Shaw, beating him with what was originally supposed to hide, Francis, with their bond, and THEIR LOVE. Absolutely perfect. And Charles original plan! I can't say I'm too surprised. I'm so glad it's not necessary though....Well, Shaw isn't dead yet though. He best stay unconscious. I can't wait for more!

No, Shaw's not dead yet :/

I'm glad you liked the chapter! Things seem to be going well here, right? At least these two were actually using their advantages, pressing them against Shaw to try and work things out.

I'm grinning at how people seem to like Francis =D

Reminds me of inception!!! oh god your genius. so well thought out, layers and layers of plot, feelings and connections. i dont want this to endddddddd. Please write more more more cherik fics!! :')

Thank you <3 OMG, haven't I written too many already? People are going to kick me out of this fandom anytime now.

You're not the first person to bring up Inception. I hadn;t thought of this fic that way, but I guess my overindulgence in mental landscape can only lead to that reference. I'm kind of happy with how I wrote it out, though.

Oh wow.

This chapter was just so good, as always, I don't even know where to start. I'm so glad Charles has a plan and it seems to be working and I just know they're going to make it and that knowledge just fills me with happiness. (They ARE going to make it out of there, right?......)

Your writing just really put me right there with them, I could picture it all really well. Well enough in fact that I had a minor "ew!" moment with poor Erik's arm and the bone being visible *shudders*. And I loved the line about Erik with telepathy being like a "toddler swinging a broadsword", so great.

Thank you!

Yes, Charles finally pulls it together, we're all very proud of him. Hopefully he won't freak out half-way, right? Eh. They might make it out yet *shaky smile*

OMG, I have a waaaay too graphic mind. I think maybe sometimes I go overboard with the description of potentially icky things. Blood and gore don't affect me because my mom's a doctor, so sometimes I overestimate people's stomach's.

Lol yes, Erik and telepathy, no finesse whatsoever. Erik's not known for being sutbtle, after all.

Wow, this chapter was so fascinating. Even if it hurts, I'm still amazed at how their bond works, and the possibilities. *___________*

Thank you <3

Endless, endless possibilities *sits and ponders*

This intense. I'm literally lying here on my bed reading this wide-eyed and I can't stop fidgeting with things with my fingers and am completely oblivious to my tv behind me. fjdkslf.
Epic story is epic.
And oh Erik. I'd say he definitely needs time. And I have to admit, I think I really like Francis. He's kind of like Charles, but still so very..not. He's..he's got that 'fatherly' feel, and..while he's very pleasant and well mannered and calm and knowing, he's don't want to cross him, you want to listen to everything he says because it's somehow important in some way. I'd say he's similar to Charles in that, but somehow..more so. Even if he's not as powerful as Charles, as far as telepathy goes, he's still so..his presence is extremely commanding, not oppressing, demands that you pay attention, even if he's being soft spoken and gentle. That's really gotten across, so..well done.
And Erik and Charles teaming up, and Erik's..the things that have been done to him, I just. jfksdl.

This, seems to sum up many of my feelings tonight;

Thank you so much <3 sorry I made you fidget though, and hey, tv's best forgotten anyway. Yeah, Erik's pretty bad off--he's definetely going to need hospitalization for a while, if they get out of this one alive.

I'm glad you like Francis! When I first drafted the character, I mean to made the lines between him and Charles blur for Erik, but Francis really developed himself too independently for that to work. In a sense, a subconscious projection would be the purest form of Charles' consciousness, so I guess you could say Francis is the core of what Charles is, maybe what he's capable of becoming. After all, Francis Xavier was the model after which Charles strives to shape himself--if only he could remember him :/

OMG, that gif, I swear, of that entire movie that was the only moment when I flinched back and was like WHY, HUH, WHY DID THE HROSE HAVE TO DIE, HUH?? THAT WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY, FILM, COMPLETELY! yeah, maybe my priorities are a little out of order.

Oh my God! I don't know, this is so gripping. I love the whole concept of it, the trips into both their minds, how they blend into each other, it's making my head spin. I'm really, really glad Charles won't kill himself even though I can somehow understand where that plan comes from. Such an intriguing plot, I really love you for this story. :)

Thank you so much! I love writing telepathy, which is probably why I hang around fandoms like Star Trek and vampires that have that gift. The mere possibilities of it are so fascinating!

I love you for all your comments and how encouraging you are <3

Very interesting!!! i'm hoping for more!! very curious how about this will end! kissus

Thank you! I'll update soon, promise! *hugs*

It's almost a pity that Erik cut off Shaw mid-speaking. I was interested in what he thought to do/say next. On the other hand, an unconscious Shaw is the only good Shaw and it was probably nothing feasible anyway. :D

... I really hope Charles is in better condition than Erik. Someone is going to have to bring him to a hospital before he dies of blood loss.

I'm torn between wanting to see a grand happy end and never ever wanting it to finish. Still, looking forward to the rest. :D

Eh, trust me, you wouldn't like Shaw awake. What can he say that wouldn't be disgusting?

There would be some technical difficulties in being worse off than Erik, but Charles hasn;t been walking in the park either.

Eh, all stories have to finish, and I'd rather it be sooner than later, so as to not risk dragging it on and losing the point of the story. I like well-wrapped, concise story-telling. And this is the longest story I've ever written, so.

I just love Francis, he's awesome. The dream world was fascinating, reminded me of Inception, I kept hearing Hans Zimmer's score while reading. And leave it to Charles to have a crazy plan which ends in tears, I adore your version of him.

The Inception soundtrack is nothing short of beutiful, Zimmer really did good in that. I'm glad you liked the chapter and could envision what was happening! Sometimes I worry that my images aren't as clear as they could be and I just make everything confusing.

Thank you for liking Charles <3 and ending in tears. Erm.

That was fantastic! The mind-world was brilliantly realised, and I'm loving Francis, can I just say... :)

thank you! I've sort of grown to like Francis, myself. I'm going to miss these characters when this fic is done *sigh*


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